The other cross was soon ready, and again it was ?get your kit off? time. I sat on a wooden chair, and my collar was forced up end lowered on to a hoo.... Without using hands it was impossible to get off. My upper arms were placed in two straps each fixed to the cross beam, so although my arms were free from the elbows, they were useless. One little refinement I had not known about, was that my two cunt rings were snapped into clips, pulling them apart, and at the same time keeping me firmly down. Trying to distract myself, I grabbed the nearest magazine. I chuckled nervously at some writer's opinion on the season's newest television shows and wiped my damp hands on my trousers. But nothing worked as I waited for Mrs. Taylor, the principal's secretary, to wave me in."Mr. Weaver?" the elderly lady said at last, looking up at me from her computer. Or at least I thought she was looking at me, but apparently she was scanning the room for anyone who might like a meeting with the principal.. More

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